


Howl to the Moon (For the Earth does not listen, she weeps anyways)

by HkHk



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Werewolf, F/F
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-05-24
Updated: 2016-12-03
Packaged: 2018-04-01 00:14:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 9
Words: 9,936
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3998626
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HkHk/pseuds/HkHk
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>She had shed her human self in favor for her wolf self, to run away from the decisions of her brain vs her heart. She needed to run away from the corpses, from the grief that threatened to crush her chest. Lexa was right. They all made sacrifices to protect the ones they love. War makes monsters out of them all. </p><p>Or</p><p>Lexa tries to calm a fully transformed Clarke from ripping out her throat. Who thought the Sky Princess could make such a magnificent wolf?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

She walks through the woods quietly, her footsteps making nary a sound. Lexa knew she should be careful, she knew there were worse things in the forest. Things that would rip her apart if given half a chance. For a second, Lexa regretted ditching her guard. Even if the scout's report was right, there was no reason to believe that Clarke wouldn't just rip her throat out. 

Their last parting was....a calculated decision, one that any leader would have done. 

Judging by the reports of her scouts, Clarke had done the same. 

It was a ruthlessness that made many reach a new appraisal of the Sky Princess. 

Lexa merely mourned silently. She had to do what she had to do, to make their march worthwhile. If she hadn't...she would have lost everyone she had wanted to save. Now they were recuperating at camp, pale and malnourished they would grow strong once more. Once there were only whispers of loss, of those swallowed up by the mountain, now there would only be celebration. 

Victory was built on the back of sacrifice, on the lives given and the lives taken. That is the meaning of leadership, telling the people before you that they will have to die for you, for the battle. That their sacrifice would mean something.

The living stood on the bones of the dead, drank their blood and ate their flesh. 

The only thing the living could do was honor the sacrifices made. 

Lexa carefully ducked under the tree branches, nearing the source of running water. It was a small stream, offering with it fresh water and a few tiny fish. It wasn't worth stopping at, but her prey might. Even if the scout's words were false, there was still something to be said about a cornered animal. Clarke's reasons to retreat from Camp Jaha were her own. 

At first, when the scout's report came in, Indra declared them false. They had all met the ones who could change form, who wore their beast on the outside. It was curious that Clarke would lead them, someone who wasn't beast blooded. They may be the Sky People but many held the Earth in their bones. 

She took a hesitant step into the grove, her body hidden in the shadow of the tree. There were marks of life, parts where the grass was parted, a place where the ground was wore down. Clarke was still same, no matter what form she took. She was still a Sky Person, unused to how her presence marked the world in its wake. 

Lexa took another step forward, scanning her surroundings for the inhabitant. 

There was nothing but silence. 

That worried Lexa. Nature was anything but quiet. It wasn't "pristine" as the Sky People had mentioned. It was full of life. 

It was never this quiet. 

Something scared the animals. 

"Leksa..." The guttural growl from behind her nearly made her heart jump. 

Lexa turned slowly, her hand at the hilt of dagger, consciously reminding herself to look as nonthreatening as possible. 

The Clarke that she had negotiated with wouldn't have even attempted to hurt her and Lexa knew she could easily fend any attack. The Clarke that stared at her, massive wolf head at shoulder level, open mouth full of teeth....

"Clarke."


	2. Wolf, wolf, wolf they cry.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Maybe she wants to rip her throat out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'll be unraveling exactly who can shift and why. The basic idea is that shifters were around before the Earth got blown up, but they weren't really well known. So when they cropped up again on the Ark, they were deemed "mutants". You don't really need wolves on an orbital platform. 
> 
> As for the Grounders, they got radiation and some other neat things. Will explain more later. 
> 
> And the Mountain Men were the most screwed of the lot. It's like a dog stuck in a kennel. There are softer grass on the other side, but if you try to get out, the electric fence gets you. You still try.

Clarke had never showed any real indication of being a shape shifter. It made sense as when the survivors fled Earth, only a few could initially. The "mutant" strain only showed up in a few every hundred. The solar radiation didn't help much either, changing the werewolves even more. As time progressed, a select minority were allowed to roam the Ark, to stretch their legs. It was difficult for any shifter to live there. They were trapped in their own skin, unable to be free. 

They were surviving on a boat that threatened to sink further and further into the ocean and the only land they see was not hospitable at all. 

So they just gritted their teeth and kept scooping up water in their little buckets, pausing every once in a while to gaze at the moon. 

If this was how the shifters felt while stuck on the Ark, the ones hidden in Mount Weather must of had it worse. 

There was land there but the moment they stepped out, they would burn. 

At least the Ark people had hope that one day they would be able to walk on the Earth. The Mountain men had only desperation. 

Clarke had let her brain make the decision for her. She and Bellamay had pulled the lever and with it, all the lives in the mountain. 

She used to play games as a child, and one was reenacting movies she'd seen. 

_Pull the Lever, Kronk!_

Now she couldn't see anything but the dead. A childhood memory tainted by her adult self.

Bellamy had tried to comfort her the best he could, cold nose against her shoulder. The moment they were able to leave the mountain, he shed his human form and scouted ahead of the group. The howls at night, warning others of their arrival and warning others to stay clear, went on for the entire night. 

The survivors were happy to see her, happy to be alive. Happy enough to not care too much about how they got there. Happy enough to not ask any hard questions. 

It was indication enough as they left, that they were the only ones. 

The people who helped them were dead too.

The irradiated air didn't care that some of those people were good. It just burned them. All of them. 

She had to leave. She had to...clear her mind. She needed to take this pressure off her chest. 

Honestly, her transformation surprised her too. It is a bit of a shock to go from two legs to four. 

It suited her purpose, although the lack of thumbs sucked. 

But her teeth were a suitable trade.

Clarke looked at Lexa, ears cocked, mouth open as she breathed making a raspy noise.

"Loud as ever, Sky Princess." 

Her lips peeled back at the tone. 

Her wolf self contemplated attacking. 

She had no luck hunting, most of the prey had fled underground or taken flight. Most of the animals have long learned to hide when something unnatural appears. 

Clarke was, essentially, starving. 

Wolf form or no, she didn't know how to hunt. 

But hungry as she was, her beast self recognized the danger that stood before her. While the Grounders were unable to shift, spare a few rare individuals, the radiation had made it so they wore their beast self outside of their body. 

They were stronger, faster, more durable. 

They had thumbs. 

The smell of dry meat drifted over to her nose. 

Ah. 

Her wolf self made the decision.

She lunged.


	3. Hunter vs hunter

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dying is easy, living is not
> 
> Some reasoning for why Lexa broke the alliance.

_Jus drein, jus daun._

Blood must have blood.

Lexa freezes for a second, watching in disbelief, but more so in sorrow as Clarke leaps at her. 

She knew this would happen. 

As Commander, she had broken the alliance between the Sky People and the Grounders. She traded possible innumerable deaths for her people, for the ones she could still save. The pragmatic Maunon had threatened to kill her people once the assault started, to ensure that none would survive and that she would lose everything. What were 47 lives to her hundreds? 

Lexa just didn't anticipate how much it hurt to lose Clarke. 

Over time, she had grown fond of the blonde haired girl, sharing words of wisdom. They were both leaders, respected by their peers and obeyed without question. Well, should be. Sometimes, Indra runs her mouth a bit much. 

The Commander dives out of the way, rolling, pulling her bow from her back, an arrow already strung before Clarke landed. The wolf was....

Hurt. 

Clarke's fur was matted, dirty, knotted with all sorts of plants and leaves. There was dry blood along her side, what looks to be claw marks. Lexa recalled her other observations of the Sky People, of the shifters in their group and how their paws were red and inflamed from walking on the ground for the first time. It took days for the Sky People to toughen their feet, to sustain long runs. They were easy opponents for the Grounders who have fought their entire lives. 

Lexa faced Clarke, the bow string drawn back to her ear. The wolf growled at her. 

No doubt, Grounder was easier prey than the other animals that live in the forests.

In her head she counted how many arrows she had, what knives she could use and just how fast she could run. She had fought shifters before, proving her strength and worthiness. Those who lived in beast form tend to act like beasts, spooked by quick movements, and sometimes fire. But they were still strong and fast, stronger and faster than any Grounder. 

"I don't want to hurt you Clarke." Anymore than I have, she silently amended to herself. 

"Wish it was mutual."

The mere idea of Clarke wanting her throat made Lexa dizzy. Her betrayal had cut the girl to the bone. 

They stared at each other, sizing each other up.

Hunter vs Hunter.

The massive grey colored wolf took a tentative step forward, only for an arrow to land right in front of her paw, making Clarke take a step back. She sniffed the air and said, "I'm hungry." Then she sat down and examined her paw as if it was the most fascinating thing in the world. 

Well yes, she can see that but that doesn't mean she was gonna let her take a bite out of her! Really Clarke? Of all the--

Lexa fixed her face into a neutral expression. She put her bow down, while watching Clarke, and pulled a leather bag out of her bag. Then, she pulled out a meat strip, clutched between thumb and forefinger. She held it out and waited. 

Clarke closed the distance between them, reaching out with her mouth. Lexa could see all the pointy teeth and hoped she didn't misjudge the situation. A warm and wet tongue closed over the piece of meat. Gently it was tugged out and all Lexa was left with was a slimy hand. 

This was repeated a few more times before the bag itself was depleted. Well, there goes those rations. 

She wiped the saliva off her hand onto the tree trunk. "I will go hunt." Lexa said after Clarke had finished her meal. "Seeing as you are incapable. Stay." 

With that parting remark, Lexa vanished into the woods. 

She needed space away from the infuriating enigma that was Clarke of the Sky People.

//

After Lexa had left, Clarke lowered herself onto her haunches. 

She mulled over her somewhat childish decision to attack Lexa. The smell of fear had ended that game pretty quick. Not that it was a game. Clarke wanted to make Lexa experience the same sort of betrayal, the feel it in her dreams and in her waking moments. What it felt to run from ghosts, to watch every shadow expecting attack, to be ran ragged until she couldn't breathe. 

Lexa looked so...normal. Calm. She was dressed in very simple clothing, dark Grounder attire, sans her war paint. It made her look....

Clarke huffed under her breath. 

Why was it that Lexa looked vulnerable and all she got was fur? Soft fur and a great nose and a decent running speed and teeth. Which wasn't too bad. Always wanted to be able to rip a man's throat out with her teeth. 

Her tail wagged at the thought. 

Wait. Not happy. Stop wagging.

Her tail sagged against the ground.

Somewhat determined to remain angry, she began to drum up thoughts to sustain her fury. 

There were the dead Mountain Men, the prone bodies on level 5, all the small children who couldn't help which side they were on. There was her people, the 47 who were stuck there, harvested for their bone marrow in the most barbaric way possible. They could have found peace! There was always a way. She could have found another path. Neither side had a choice. They had walked down this bloody path made of bones, together. It was an eerily similar path that she had walked before.

Unlike Lexa, Cage didn't want to talk. 

In this body, she understood their desire to breathe the free air. Having lived most of her life on recycled air, the air on the Ground was far sweeter. The land kept going and going, as if it would never end. 

Then there were the people. 

Scared as she was, fearful as she was, the Grounders were just people. Each as unique, as precious as the next. It was like snuffing out a star. Life was precious. 

Or so she thought. 

Just took a pull of a lever to snuff the life out of well over 300 people. 

The crunch of boots on dirt made her look up. Only Lexa would over exaggerate her footsteps. It was sweet, in an annoying manner. 

"I have returned." Lexa says well before she stepped foot in the clearing. Over her shoulder she had slung a two headed deer. The smell of blood made her stomach gurgle. 

"Feeding me now?" Clarke asked, as she got up, head cocked to the side. 

"Yes. I would like to be able to sleep without worrying about being gnawed on." The picture that Lexa's words brought up reminded Clarke of an old video of Earth before. She laughed, the sound surprising herself and Lexa, judging by the slight frown on her face. 

"What?"

"Oh, nothing." It was hard to gesture when all one had were paws and ears. But Clarke managed well enough. "Just...there used to be creatures called dogs on Earth. And a puppy, which is a young dog, was chewing on her owner's shoe." 

Lexa's eyebrow shot up. "You do not have...dogs?" She put the deer down and began to dress the animal. 

"No. Animals were prohibited. They took up space, air, food..." Clarke cocked her head. "Those who tried, were floated. Them and their animals." 

"And what of your...." Lexa said a word in Trigedasleng, she then gestured to Clarke. 

"Some were floated when they were first discovered." Clarke stared at the ground as a small bitter laugh escaped her throat. "You'd think with all the people they'd killed, it'd make a dent in our population." 

Death was death, no matter what method it took. She understood that now. Dead by vacuum, swift and painful. Death by a thousand cuts, painful and long. Neither differed. Someone still died. 

Her mother had asked her, demanded for a reason as to why she had let the missile hit TonDC without alerting anyone. Where could she had gotten that from? Who did she learn it from? Was it Lexa? Surely it wasn't from her mother who floated her father. Who sent 100 teenagers to a possibly uninhabitable planet. Correction, sat on the council that made that decision. 

Clarke's gaze darted over to Lexa as she butchered the deer. She watched for a moment, as the Commander, cut away the skin, peeling back to reveal fat and meat. There was a sense of poetry in her motions, a seamless movement as the knife blade slid into it. The last time they had tried that, all they got was burned fur and meat. It tasted horrendous. If it were for the Grounders, they'd be dead. 

They would have been the new Roanoke Colony.

Be it cold, starvation or spears to the chest, they would have all died out. Perhaps that would have been fitting. Maybe they all should have died out there in space, as penance for the people they murdered to live just a little bit longer. 

"I hope you are not trying to die." Lexa said without looking up from her work. "If you are, do it now before I finish. I would hate to waste perfectly serviceable meat." 

Clarke stared at Lexa, incredulous. "For your information, I was not thinking about dying. I was thinking." 

"Umhm." Lexa said noncommittally. "You tend to get a pinched look on your face when you're thinking about the dead." 

"How do you even get that?" Clarke asked, indignant. She did not get a pinched look on her face! "Have you been watching me?" 

There was no response. 

Clarke huffed, turning her face away. "Stalker."

"Merely observant." 

She gave Lexa's a wolf smile, some teeth and tongue, relaxed for once. 

"I'm glad...that you came by." Clarke said shyly. "I didn't know I was so close to Polis." 

What were the chances that they would cross paths? She must of ran for miles and miles. All the way to this legendary Polis, the place where Lexa had offered to show her after everything was said and done. 

She heard Lexa stiffen, her heart pick up speed. 

"Of...course." Came the somewhat guarded reply. 

Clarke sat up, ears sticking straight up. "....No way." 

"Clarke..." 

"You...you.." This time she rolled her eyes with a touch of affection in her tone. "Stalker."


	4. Sing to me

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Just a bit of a chat, just two girls, talking.

Clarke watched with envy as Lexa made the fire. Come to think of it, everything Lexa did was artistic and graceful. If only she had some charcoal, she could draw her. 

If only she had thumbs. 

She eyed the crackling fire and the meat being slowly cooked above it. "You were pretty prepared for a venture into the woods." 

"I am always prepared." 

"Right." 

It was very hard to stay angry at Lexa. Mainly because her hatred did not stem from Lexa's betrayal, part of it did but most of it was at the world. She was angry at Cage for thinking he could get away with killing all those people. She was furious that so many people died for nothing and for such senseless reasons. 

"Stop thinking about death." Lexa said by the fire, looking up. "You have that look on your face."

"Lexa...I..I-" The comfort of her wolf mind and heart soothed her worries, and she let herself sink into it. The first time she transformed, it felt as if her heart was bursting from her chest, her skin hot and scratchy. She wanted to rip her skin off. 

Which she did.

She had left a pile of it in the woods, buried under a bunch of dirt. For the first few hours, she was content to let herself run. Her wolf mind was sharp. There were only a few thoughts and desires. Food, comfort, safety. It was so tempting to let that be the dominant mind, to just /fade/ away. 

Then Lexa arrived and it all came rushing back. The betrayal. The deaths. The images she had tried to suppress flooded to the forefront of her mind.

No matter how fast she ran, how far she trekked, her past found her. 

Lexa found her. 

And Clarke was happy that she did. 

//

Lexa raised both eyebrows as she witnessed Clarke's brain fart. It was amusing to watch a wolf imitate human facial expressions. Clarke was very emotional and it showed in how her ears stood at attention, the way the edges of her eyes crinkled and her mouth opened. 

Of course, her human self was very pretty as well. 

Even when covered in dirt, wait, no. Especially when covered in dirt. 

She was nothing like Costia. 

For one thing, Costia was never a shifter, and she wasn't a leader. Costia was her first love. 

But not her only love. 

She could fix this. The gaping chasm that separates them. She could fix this. 

"Come here, Clarke." Lexa gestured over to her side of the fire. "You look dreadful."

The grey wolf looked at her and snorted but walked over, settling down onto her haunches, inches away from Lexa. While the fire was hot, even this facsimile of contact was far hotter. The Commander pulled out a comb from her pack and began to work at the messy thing that Clarke called fur. 

"Did you run through a swamp?" She clucked with her tongue, running her fingers through the matted strands.

"No." Clarke's voice rumbled from under her thick fur. 

"Or did you roll in every puddle you found?" 

The silence was all she needed. Lexa smirked. She fell into the comfortable activity of combing out all the knots and leaves from Clarke's fur. As it turns out, her fur wasn't actually grey. 

It was white. 

Like a ghost. A specter lurking in the dark, waiting for any unwary traveler. 

Clarke rolled over onto her back, her paws bent, head tilted to the side, putting even more dirt into her fur no doubt giving Lexa more work. "You're acting very suspicious." Declared the wolf, in her vulnerable position, demanding an answer. "What is it that you want?" 

Did Clarke even understand what she was doing? Her mouth said one thing while her body said another. 

"You haven't been a wolf very long, have you?" Lexa asked, ignoring the question. "Your paws are very tender." 

She gently touches them, hand darting back when Clarke bears her teeth, all of them. 

"Sorry." Says Clarke once she had calmed her instincts. "You're right. I'm very new to this."

Still on her back, her body language that of a young pup, eager to learn, Clarke continues to stare at Lexa as if she were the elder and not the younger. It is infuriating. But then, Clarke had always proven to be something other than what she appeared to be. 

"None of your people helped?" 

"Didn't give them a chance." 

"You ran?" 

"Hmhm." A quiet peace had manifested between them, a place where they could both talk without any judgement. Clarke was tired of /feeling/. It had left her hollow out, a person shaped thing. "I just needed a break. I couldn't go back to Camp Jaha and keep going as if nothing had happened. How could I look them in the eye and tell them that I killed children? Jasper didn't talk to me the entirety of the walk back and Bellamy was in his wolf form. No one was ready, and I get that, I really do. I wasn't ready, how could I expect that of anyone else?" 

Clarke glanced at the fire, at the deer meat and then back at Lexa. "I read about this before, that when we are tempered in fire, we become stronger because of it." 

Lexa waited for Clarke to finish, to speak her piece. 

"I feel brittle, Lexa." 

She could see it in her mind's eye, Clark'e blonde hair and blue eyes looking at her helplessly. It was that same defeated expression she bore when Lexa had to betray Clarke. Lexa picked her own people over her new alliance, over Clarke and her people. As she should have done. 

"Sometimes I think that if we had done this together, attacked the Mountain Men together, we would have shared this burden, together." Clarke's voice became wistful. "None of us would be alone with our decisions." 

"You would have done the same," Lexa said interjecting. "You would have gotten your people back without any deaths, the perfect choice."

"No, I wouldn't." Clarke looked at Lexa fiercely. "I kept silent about the missile, let all those people burn just to keep our alliance. I would have found another way." 

"Would you?" She asked Clarke, bitterly. "With the Maunon's guns at the head of your people?" 

"They were already killing my people!" 

"The Maunon had butchered my people, turned them into Reapers. I would have saved them all." 

Clarke rose to her feet, shaking herself, letting the tension melt off her stiff shoulders. "Just at the price of my people, our alliance....me."

At that, Lexa had no response. 

"I get it. You did what you had to do. I would have done what I thought was best. We're different people." 

Lexa found her voice, or part of it. "Are we?"

"Yes, but it isn't a bad thing. It just requires time and effort on both sides. Thank you Lexa. You didn't have to help me."

"It was my pleasure." She said, her mouth dry. It felt like they were talking about an end, even if her words were about forgiveness. Lexa grasped at straws, to make an attempt to keep this connection alive, to repair the damage. "My offer was real, about coming to Polis with me. I wanted to show you that we're more than what we appear to be." 

"You already did." 

"Then you will accept my offer?" 

Whatever reply Clarke had vanished the brush rustled and out stepped a wolf. But it wasn't like any wolf that Lexa had seen before, but it was eerily familiar. She had already drawn her sword, getting to her feet. It had metal teeth. It had metal around it's head. There was a pack on it's side, something she'd seen before but couldn't put her tongue on. It was massive, standing a full head over Clarke. It was just as ill suited to living in the forests, as starved, as any foreign creature would be. While the Sky People were like children frolicking in the flowers marveling at the sun and stars, this one looked at the forest as if it owned it, she knew what it was. 

"Maunon." Lexa spat. 

"Give us the girl, Grounder." Roared the Maunon. "Give her to us and we will let you live."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Perhaps a betrayal at the end.


	5. Wolf bears teeth at bear

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A meeting, a talk, maybe?

The corpses were lined up in rows, blankets to cover their bodies, to cover the burns, to cover the grief. Like daises, like the pictures of ducks from before, before the bombs, before the radiation, before everything. But they were not yellow fuzzy ducklings, they were children in yellow dresses and shiny black shoes and small pink bows. They were tiny boys with their tiny clothes, their sunday best. They were adults who died in pain, their fingers twisted, their features masked in horror. 

Plates of food sat on the tables, untouched, everything set up for a great event, for a celebration. 

It _was_ a gathering. 

It _was_ a party

It was a tomb.

It was a base in the heart of a mountain and despite all that they did, they died anyways. 

Everyone died in minutes, each second ticking by in agony. Their screams must of filled the room, ringing upward and outward through the ventilation ducts. Or did they just quietly gasp before their throats swelled up and they could say nothing? Scream internally?

Then there were the piles of furry bodies ranging in size and in color. Brown colored fur decorated with ribbons and flower wreaths, tolerated only because it would make their younger siblings cry. There were bodies stuck in the between, patches of fur, bones half grown, features stuck as they died in the middle of their transformation hoping beyond hope that it would work, that the stories, the fairy tales of wolves belonging to the Earth and that She would not harm her children.

It was a fairy tale in the end.

Only blood could save them, and blood always sought out blood.

They built their sacrificial alter from metal and placed the young upon it. 

_Drip. Drop. Drip._

//

He bares his teeth, hackles raised, a low growl filling the small encampment. "Give me the girl, Grounder and I will let you live. We no longer have a quarrel with you. My men might, but I only want the killer." 

"Wrong, you have one with me." The Grounder spat out, as if she could ever threaten him with her blades. 

He barks out a laugh, anger swirling in his gut, madness in his mind. All he could see was his dead wife and child. All he could smell was HER smell. 

There was only the desire for revenge. 

While he did not agree with the decisions made from those above him, he could not disagree with the results. Here he was running in the free air, smelling trees and flowers, hunting without a suit. This was what he wanted to give to his wife and child. This was meant for them. It wasn't fair that they were all stuck in a mountain, wasn't fair that if they were to take a single breath they would die. 

It wasn't fair. 

It wasn't fair that his child died, that his wife no doubt had to watch her die as well. If only he was there, if only he hadn't sneaked out to taste mountain air. If only.

If only. 

"I'll go." The wolf-girl whose scent was everywhere, spoke, surprising the Grounder. 

"Clarke!" 

Clarke walks over to the Grounder, pressing her snout against her. "I'll be fine Lexa. This...I have to do this." 

"No." The Grounder, Lexa, whispers fiercely. "I won't let you." 

He recognizes the Grounder, finally. It was hard to differentiate faces when one's vision has changed. Smells were easier and sharper but no one had actually gotten close enough to the Grounder Commander to catch a wiff of her scent. There were plans. There were ideas as to how to use their superior technology and fighting skills to retake back land. There were such ideas as to how to live again. 

They were going to make a garden and grow crops. 

Surviving in a mountain was one thing, but living? Oh what joy it would have been to feel the sun and the wind on your face. 

Clarke separates from Lexa and walks up to him, still exuding dominance in every inch of her body. Despite her intention to go with him peacefully, she still exudes danger. Does the girl not understand anything? He could kill them both with his razor sharp metal platted teeth. She wouldn't be able to hide from him, not when he got her scent, when his goggles could see far clearer than anything. He had armor along his neck and back, specifically made for his form. Even if he were to shift back, his packs held weapons and clothes, survival equipment. 

She was just a girl.

The Grounder glares at him. She wants so much to attack him, to kill him. He could feel it in the air, hear her heart race. "Go back to your huts, Grounder." He says dismissively but watches her still. She was the Commander after all.

"March in front." He orders his voice gruff and harsh. 

She walks, trots, her posture relaxed. 

They leave the Grounder in the clearing and head out, him barking commands and her following. They walk for a time. The moon slides further across the sky. 

She breaks the silence," Who are you?" 

"Captain Murphy." He stops to look her in the face. "You killed my wife and child." 

"I'm sorry." She says it as if she knew it wouldn't fix anything but it had to be said. 

She didn't even offer an explanation and he...he wasn't sure if he wanted to know. He wanted to kill her. To avenge them. He knew his end goals but the middle? How it gets there? What to do between then and now? All his grand plans, ended at this point. He would threaten her friends, her people, wage war. But she had come willingly, quietly. The adrenaline had long left his body and he is cold. 

What of after? When she is lying on the forest floor bloody and cold, what will he do? 

He recalls that he didn't really think about it. 

Clarke stops suddenly and turns about, studying him before her form shifted. She is still new to it, he could tell, fur falling to the ground in waves as pink skin emerges. Bone snap into place and organs rearrange themselves.

Then she is human, young. So very young. As young as the children who were cut open for the cure. 

"I'm sorry for your loss." There are tears trickling down her face. She turned human so she could cry. 

She's waiting he thinks. She's waiting for him to kill her. She's waiting for her death, for an end. 

He remembers looking at her face, reviewing the video footage, feeling nothing at that time but hate. But all he could feel now was sorrow. 

She looks like his wife, younger, her hair lighter. Not the same smile or eyes. No, she looked nothing like her. His wife was innocent. His child was innocent. If anyone had to die, it was him. It was him and his men. It was him and all those soldiers and scientists who decided to do this. The small skirmishes with the Grounders were to protect their families, killing them was part of war. People died in war. They weren't meant for small cages, for experimentation as if they were nothing but animals to be tossed away when they were no longer useful. 

"My wife didn't approve." He starts haltingly, startled by his own admission. "When she found out the truth about how the cure was found. She's a doctor-was a doctor. She was part of the first projects to figure out how to survive the radiation but was removed." 

He is tired. Weary. 

"When I found her, I..I didn't want to see her face, to remember her in _that_ way. Can you imagine it? I loved her, I loved her and our baby girl but I didn't want to see what happened. If I was there- my men could-" His voice is thick with grief. "Maybe this is our punishment for wanting something we cannot have. Is that what you are? An angel of vengeance? Sent to smite us? Like Sodom and Gomorrah?" 

His copy of the bible sits in his right pocket, right next to his cross. The pictures of his family is crisp, neatly folded his wife is smiling in it and his baby girl was only a few months old. 

"Did we sin so badly that God could not forgive us?" Was he asking her for forgiveness? "There was nothing to justify what we did. All those kids..."

Her eyes are luminous and she smiles sadly. "We are all monsters here."


	6. Knives flash white in the moonlight

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lexa to the rescue!

He cocks his head at her, voiceless. 

"I get it, you know?" She says very softly. "It's easier to kill in battle, knowing that the person who you're fighting is trying to kill you too. It makes the guilt easier to pass. It feels..justified. Almost. But it never is. We just tell ourselves that so we can sleep easier at night." 

The Mountain Men had brought the war to their home, and suffered for it. Cage thought she wouldn't kill all those innocent people. Perhaps he thought her weak. Or maybe he thought...he thought there was a way out, a way where no one else would have to die. It's hard to tell what Cage thought anymore, he was dead now. 

"You're just a kid." He says finally,"You shouldn't even be out here. But then, so were the ones who died, right? Your friends?" 

Clarke approaches him, one foot forward, slowly, hand out. She touches the patch of skin that is bare, scarred over. "Yes. Your people killed mine for a cure." 

He is the massive wolf, metal teeth, enhanced vision, more muscle, heavier than she but he is scared of her touch. 

Clarke wonders, dreams- she wishes that her friends would live on in them. She'd read scientifically reviewed papers about organ donation, specifically of the heart, that alleged certain transference of the donor. But none of it were based on fact. Her friends were dead. 

"Was it worth it?"

Captain Murphy stands in the forest, breathing the free air and shakes his massive wolf head. "No." 

Tears prick the corner of her eyes, sliding down her face. "I wish it was."

She steps back and scrubs with her hand, streaking dirt along her face. Clarke wasn't sure what was going to happen, she was fully prepared to die and yet she knew she didn't want to. Not anymore. 

It is only because she was watching him, wondering what he was going to do that she spotted the flicker of light. 

Then a blur appeared, a loud thump, a pained roar. Blood. Hot blood splashes on her feet. Her weak human eyes spot only the flash of metal, a struggle and then nothing. 

Clarke backs up, preparing to shift, wondering if she could change before the attacker kills her too. The blade is yanked out, Captain Murphy's left hind leg jerks, but it is only a phantom response. He stopped breathing a few seconds ago. 

"Clarke." Said the dark figure, sheathing her knives. 

"Lexa?" 

It can't be? How...how did Lexa manage to follow them without either of them noticing? 

Her confusion must of shown on her face for Lexa answers her unspoken questions. "Clarke of the Sky People, I have lived and fought against wolves for years. I know how to deal with them despite his tricks." 

Clarke's reaction to this was to scream. Loudly. It was most likely a reaction to stress. All the stress. 

Lexa nearly jumped, eyes wide, knives in hand, darting around. She was looking for enemies. 

The scream petered off and became a hoarse laugh. Now Lexa was staring at her. 

"You killed him." Clarke said finally once the laugh become a muted sigh. 

"He had threatened you. Have I not stated before that threatening you is threatening me?" Lexa stated in all her glory, hands covered in blood. "I do not back down from my word." 

The words came out of her mouth quicker than she could catch them. "Only when it benefits you." 

The harshness in Lexa's face softens and she turns her head away. 

Clarke stares at the ground, wiggles her toes and realizes that....that she was completely naked. In front of Lexa. Who had expressed interest in her. Who she was also interested in as well. In a very carnal manner. 

She had never changed so quickly before, shedding her skin, bones crunching and turning. 

The transformation seemed to have signaled something to Lexa, who had looked back at her, now studying her lupine form. "We are close to Polis, it would take a day to get there. You can resupply there and from there, you can go where ever you want." 

She could refuse, continue on her own. Clarke knew that Lexa would not stop her. But she needed this. Not just Lexa but the human contact she offered. And maybe...a long talk. When they are both calm. 

"Alright." Clarke was tired of fighting. "To Polis."


	7. Yellow is a color too

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Short chapter on Polis.

Polis is color. 

It is yellow. It is green. It is blue. It is a color other than black, red and charcoal. It is bright and beautiful. 

Polis is life.

The market was full of vendors selling their goods. Fruits and vegetables were on display as were several sorts of smoked meats. Banners flew on flagpoles, flapping loudly in the wind. The smell of food in the air. The laughter of children. The loud conversations of adults.

Polis is children.

Children ran through the streets trailing behind them streams of paper, holding onto strings, the paper animals floating in the breeze. Lexa had collected children quite quickly, one on each arm, another clinging to her back. Wolves stream out, all in varying shades of grey and brown, each with beads or colored fabrics looped around their neck. They round up the children after a bit, content to wagging their tails and staring at Clarke cautiously. 

Clarke was surprised at the size of the Grounders. They were smaller than her, sleeker. It was strange that they were all so small. Tiny. Tiny in comparison to her. 

But they come in packs, groups of them, more than just one or two.

Polis is sound.

It was so loud. People talking. Chickens. Dogs baying. People shouting for their heda. Louder than the forests. Louder than anywhere she had been before.

It is far different that Camp Jaha. It was different than the Mountain. 

Clarke stared at life and could only recall the smell of burnt flesh, the hundreds that died because of their drop ships. She could only recall the piles of bodies, the radiation burnt bodies, the festive streamers still taped to the walls. Her body stilled. She fought with herself, eyes closed, ears flat against her head. She could hear Lexa stop, feel her hands on her fur, her voice streaming through the noise. 

"Clarke?" Brave Lexa who would put her face right next to a dangerous's beasts teeth. She could rip her throat with one bite. She could rear up and crush this heda, crush her into a mix of meat and bone. Bite through her, blood--

"Clarke." Hands on her face, grip strong, a voice cutting through the noise. "It's going to be okay."

She whines, softly, pushing up with her head, against Lexa's hand. 

Lexa's hands grab her and pull. She follows, blindly, until they were in a quieter place. Until she was sprawled on the ground, warm hands carding through her fur. It smells of Lexa. This place smells like Lexa. Every inch of it. Is it her house? Her place of dwelling? Slowly. Slowly she calms down.


	8. Polis

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A vacation in Polis. They need it, both of them.

Clarke awakens slowly lifting her head to sniff the air. She clambers to her feet and hops to the ground, taking a moment to look around. It was just a few hours ago that she arrived in Polis with Lexa. It was easier to get past the patrols and guards, the moment they saw Lexa, they let her go past. Even if she was a massive white wolf who was easily twice their size.

Once they got into the actual city itself, Clarke was absolutely awed by everything. And terrified as well. Her newly acquired hearing was bombarded by the noises of people. Children played in the streets shrieking like tiny demons. Adults had very loud conversations while merchants shouted their wares. Sound came from all corners of the buildings. It was very disorienting. Then came the sharp smells. On top of that was just the fact that there were so many people. What she saw was life. What she heard and smelled was life. There was music and singing. This was the second face of the Grounders, the hidden face of a people who had to be strong against unknown invaders.

Lexa guided her with her hand grabbing the strap of the harness they had salvaged from Captain Murphy's corpse. Initially, Clarke didn't want to wear it but logic wore out. It was easier for her to wear the harness than it was for Lexa to carry it. The harness itself held a variety of survival tools and equipment that made their journey to Polis much easier. It was also armored and made for her body type. No doubt they painted a strange picture, the Heda and what looked to be a Maunon walking alongside her.

Clarke shook herself out of her musing, padding her way through the dwelling. It was made of wood and stone, the furniture looked to be hand carved (of course). There was also a really strange smell here that she never had detected before.What was it? She turned as movement crossed her vision. A small orange...thing..stood in her way. It was tiny!

"Mew."

"....What?" Clarke asked.

"Mew!"

Bewildered she slowly walked forward, ears cocked up, wide frost blue eyes roving over the tiny thing that was copying her movements. It entwined itself around her limbs, rubbing its head against her fur. Then it jumped at her! Clarke was more surprised than threatened and she raised a paw to swat at it. The tiny creature jumped at her paw, bounced off it and landed on the wooden floor. Then it repeated the action. What was this thing?

It was pretty cute.

Clarke raised her paw again and the game was renewed.

* * *

 

"Clarke?" Lexa walked in onto what was a most amusing scene. There was Clarke playing with her new kitten. Upon Lexa's arrive the kitten abandoned its new friend and darted over to Lexa and into her awaiting arms.

Clarke immediately sat up as if to say she was not playing with that kitten. Her frost blue eyes stared at the vase on the counter as if was the most interesting thing in the world.

"I see you have met Eit." 

"Eit?" 

As if on a cue, seven more cats wandered in the room. There were two black cats as well as two white cats. One was a blue grey color and the other was a mixture of three different colors. They formed a semicircle around Clarke and were staring at her intently. The massive wolf eyed them all warily as if threatened. "Lexa?" 

"Yes?" She cradled Eit close to her chest. 

Clarke looked at Lexa with a very frank expression. "What are these things? Why are they staring at me." 

"They are cats, Clarke. No doubt they are rather curious as to who you are." Not to mention they don't like strangers in their territory. 

"Do they talk?" 

"No. They are...cats." Lexa raised an eyebrow. "Just cats." 

Clarke's ears flicked to the side and she carefully stepped around them towards Lexa. "Why do you have so many?" She asked in a hushed whisper mindful of her bulk as she navigated the room. 

"They were a gift from Costia." 

"Oh." 

Lexa managed a brittle smile. "Come, Clarke, let me show you to the bath houses. You can change back, you know. You are safe here. No one dares attack you, to do so would be to challenge me." She would kill them if any did so try. 

* * *

The communal bath houses were at the far east of the encampment a curious building that had tile and brick inlay. It was obviously an older building that survived until it could be repaired. Clarke could see where the old walls and floors ended and the new wood and metal began. It was quite impressive. She had read about these things. 

Which brought up another point. 

"Communal?" 

"Do not worry, there is no one else here." 

"Except you." 

"Yes." 

Clarke ran the numbers in her head. She could get a decent bath with running hot water. She would also be naked in front of Lexa. Lexa might get naked as well and join her in the bath. Oh. Hm. Um. They could wash each other's hair and backs. Um. Wow brain. Stop. Hormones. Stop. This was not the time or the place to fantasize. _Why fantasize_ thought a part of herself, _when you could just do it. She'd join you. You would like it. Why not? You like her and she likes you. Invite her in._

 _No I won't._ She thought fiercely back to her hormonal charged self, _because I respect her. I'm not going to jeopardize our whatever it is that we're trying to have._

_No doubt, and she would respect you, all night long, in bed._

_We just broke up!_ Clarke thought fiercely. _Kinda. You know what I mean!_

_Make up sex is the best~_

Clarke tried very hard to not bite herself. 

* * *

 

Meanwhile, Lexa was debating the merits of joining in. It would look very strange for her to just be sitting by the water with all her clothes on and watching someone bathe. People would wonder what was going on. 

As interesting as it was to watch Clarke rage an internal debate, Lexa was very interesting in other aspects of Clarke. Her human side with its soft flesh and softer lips. While she may admire the shifter side of Clarke and the power she represents, she fell in love with the human Clarke first. 

With the sound of cracking bone, Clarke's shape gave way to a human girl with dirty blonde hair. Bits of fur fell to the ground as she shed her skin. The process of shifting was kind of nauseating to look at as fur gave way to skin, ears sucked back and then realigned. Bone crunched and shorted in some places while it elongated in others.

 A few minutes later Clarke stood before her naked. Her face was completely and utterly red. 

Clarke slid into the water in the next breath, resurfacing with a happy sigh. She looked up at Lexa an unknown expression on her face before asking, rather shyly. "Do you want to join?" 

"If you insist." Lexa said coolly while the rest of her bubbled with happiness. She began to strip off her leathers and weapons, putting them in a neat pile by her boots. She waded into the water to join Clarke. 

Clarke was watching her, her mouth open. 

In a very smooth movement, Lexa swam over and very gently pushed Clarke's lower jaw up. "You are staring." She said, fingertips pressed against Clarke's chin. 

"Do you want me to stop?" Came the halting words. 

She came in a bit closer, a few inches away, her eyes searching Clarke's face. "Do you want to stop?" 

Clarke's eyes were dilated and her mouth trembled. "I..." 

Lexa wanted her so badly it made parts of her body ache. Here was someone who was strong, who could lead and knew of sacrifice. Together an alliance with the Sky People would put her on top. Already they had destroyed the Maunon. Yet it was not their alliance that caused a victory. It was a calculated decision and it was the right one, no matter what Clarke thought. The image of Clarke's face when she pulled her forces away forced itself into the forefront of her mind. Lexa pulled away the tips of her fingertips burning. 

"Once we are done, our meals will be ready." Lexa said in the ensuing silence. 

 

 

 


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Night Bloods

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am semi-back. Still have an irregular updating schedule but I should be updating more often.

"You can't shift?" 

Lexa looked up from her mug of tea, eyeing Clarke for a second before responding. "No." The blonde was wearing one of Lexa's shirts and trousers and she looked gorgeous. It was that or she walks around in her wolf form. Secretly, Lexa is pretty certain Clarke was using her wolf form the same way a child uses a security blanket. Clarke did seem to trust Lexa and was seated on a chair, legs crossed, looking at Lexa with fascination. The cats seemed to have taken to Clarke as well. Or at the very least, claimed some sort of ownership. Lexa herself had Eit in her lap. 

"How is it that....well.." Clarke gestured with a free hand. "I thought you would be the biggest of them all." She scrunched her eyebrows in though. "The Grounders are actually a lot smaller than what I'm used to." 

Clarke's wolf form was larger than many that roamed Polis. She stood a head taller and it was a terrifying sight at first glance. But the Grounders were faster and quicker and they could run circles around any of the Mountain Men. For all their strength and size, the Skaikru were just pups. 

"A vast majority of my people cannot shift. But we are faster and stronger than most." Lexa considered her words as she relaxed in her chair. "I am a Natblinda. We are born..." There was a word for it in Trigedasleng but she could not accurately translate the meaning in an appropriate word or phrase. "Inside out." She settled on finally. 

"Inside out?" 

"We share many of the characteristics of the beast blooded but we do not change shape. Our wolf spirit remains tethered inside." There were other things that marked them different from the others. But that was not a subject she was willing to approach. To speak of that was to speak of sacrifices. Of deaths. She thinks of Gustus and the easy comfort he gave, sitting by her door, head resting on his paws.

Clarke hummed in thought. 

"I think you would have been beautiful." Clarke said before correcting herself. "As a wolf. Yes. You know. Four paws. A tail." 

Lexa smiled. "Your form is most magnificent." From over the lip of her mug she could see Clarke turning red. 

* * *

Dinner was a quiet affair. Clarke ate and shuffled around to look at random objects, a cat on her shoulder. Every once in a while Clarke would point at something and ask Lexa what it was. Lexa would reply and Clarke would flash her a smile and continue on to the next object. It was terribly domestic. 

Lexa loved it. 

Outside of war, her duties were more mundane in nature. It was more political and quiet. Like this. In between the moments of danger and blood there were times of peace. She could wander the markets of Polis and see how her people were doing. She would continue to teach the Natblinda about what it means to be Commander. It would be good to see them again. The events the Skaikru sparked off had lead her away from Polis for far too long. 

Lexa vaguely wondered how Titus would feel about her moving a large white wolf into her personal wing. 

 

* * *

 

Lexa strolled through her personal wing, nodding to the guards as Clarke trailed after her in her wolf form. Titus was just a step behind Lexa and he looked furious. 

"Heda. What - " The tall bald man choked on his words as he spotted Clarke wandering off and sniffing at the drapes. "Don't touch that." He waved his hands as if to shoo her away. 

Clarke just looked at him and then went back to what she was doing. If a wolf could smile, she would be doing just that. 

"Heda. Please." 

Lexa half turned to give Titus her most blandest face. "Is there something wrong with my guest?" 

"No. Just-" He turns just in time to see Clarke interact with one of the shifter guards. Despite being much smaller, Enolli ignores Clarke's attempts at playing. Clarke's tail wags even as her requests are rebuffed. It must be one of the few times she had interacted with other shifts Lexa noted.  Many of the Skaikru's shifters were socially unaware of even the basic things pups were taught. "I was not aware that you would bring Wanheda here." 

She frowns slightly and she could feel her cheek muscle twitch. Wanheda. Ice Nation has once again proven to be more trouble than they were worth. Queen Nia had effectively put a bounty on Clarke's head, one that many would attempt to take. Kill Wanheda and you take her power. Lexa had yet to speak to Clarke about _that._

"It is the best move, is it not?" 

With the Mountain gone, the threat that came from that vanished and now the clans could focus on other issues. Like being petty with each other once more. Then there was the issue of the Skaikru and what to do with them. There was much to do and she could not spend it frolicking in the woods with Clarke no matter how much she wished to. 

Her people came first. 

As they always have. 

"For now," Titus sighed softly. "She is just much more trouble than she is worth." 

Lexa is thankful they are speaking in Trigedasleng and that Clarke could not understand. But it does not remove the sting that fills her chest. Or the distant feeling that he is right. The Skaikru have just brought trouble upon her people, upon her lands and upon herself. In the short span of time she had known of their arrival, death followed in their wake. She had lost more people to the Skaikru than she had in any other engagement. It would have been easier to just kill them all and keep the children to absorb into the clans.

She cannot refute Titu's words. Clarke brings trouble with her. She brings death. 

Clarke bounds over and nudges her hand with her wet nose. She looks up at Lexa with huge blue eyes. "Hey." 

"Hello." Lexa runs her fingers along Clarke's head and ears. "Come, there are some people you may enjoy meeting." 

* * *

The guards opened the door to the throne room where Lexa held any meetings. Here, she held her audiences for petitioners or ambassadors. The room was large and sun lite. Inside, her Natblinda were studying with books at their feet. They immediately got up when they spotted who had walked in. 

"Heda!" The chorus of voices greeted Lexa as she stepped in, Clarke a second behind her.  

Lexa busied herself with greeting each of the Natblinda while Clarke wandered around. She was used to this by now. Unlike her trained guards, Clarke would explore and poke her nose into everything. Despite what had happened to her, she had not lost her curiosity or her spirit. It made Lexa's chest feel lighter. It was happiness and it sat inside her like an egg that was slowly cracking open. She could not bear to see Clarke so burdened, her brightness overshadowed like clouds before the sun. 

It was Aden who voiced what the others were feeling. "Who is she?" He asked against the crook of her neck as he hugged her.

There were only a few people Lexa would ever kneel to and one of them were her Natblinda. They were the children of the Commander's spirit. They were also very small and it is difficult for Aden to loop his arms around her neck if she were to remain standing. He smelled of wild flowers and pine.

Lexa pulled away looking at each expectant face. They were all watching Clarke curiously. "She is Clarke, an ambassador of the Skaikru." 

Clarke sniffed the throne. "Lexa?" 

"Yes?" 

"How did you get this up here?" 

* * *

The last room she shows Clarke is her personal bedchamber. Lexa changes into her night clothes and settles onto her massive bed. The past Commander had multiple wives and they all slept in the same bed. She felt the mattress shift as Clarke jumped onto the bed, padding over to her side. She had her own room but Lexa did not have it in her to dismiss Clarke. It was her selfish desire to spend as much time as she could with Clarke. 

"So." Clarke began, lying on her side. "Those kids. They are like you?" 

"Yes." 

"Remember when we got cornered by the pauna and you said, that your spirit would choose wisely? What did you mean by that?"

Lexa closes her eyes and counts to ten in her head. It had been a calculated risk to show Clarke the Natblinda. But she needed Clarke to understand.

"Lexa? Are you okay?"

 She pulls her sleeping shirt off, ignoring the gasp and no doubt out of place look on Clarke's face, turning her back to reveal the tattoo along her spine. She could feel Clarke's breath against her neck and the tell tale sound of bones cracking. Soft fingers touch the circles. 

"Each circle represents a Natblinda." Lexa began evenly. "Before I was Heda, I was just another Natblinda. I lived and trained with the others. Then one day, the Commander died. We all knew this was going to happen, that our friendships meant nothing. I killed them all." She could feel her eyes burn with repressed tears.

Time had not eased the sorrow or pain. Time had not made her forget their faces. 

"As I stood over their dead bodies I promised myself that this would never happen again." She could feel Clarke's arms encircle her body, tears splashing on her shoulder as Clarke wept when she could not.

"I wanted to build a world in which our children can flourish without the shadow of death." 

 

 

 

 


End file.
